It's My Party, and I'll Dance If I Want To
by fermataoso
Summary: Galinda throws Fiyero a birthday party. Fiyeraba.


AN: So I thought since I've been so bad about updating, I'd give you a little present on my birthday. Hope you like it.

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Fiyero smiled, suddenly aware of a pair of arms wrapping around him from behind. "Happy birthday, baby," a bubbly voice cooed in his ear, and he chuckled. At least his girlfriend was having a good time. This party she'd thrown for him was actually the perfect gift, though he noticed surprisingly few of his friends actually there.

"Another dance? Come on, it's my birthday," he wheedled.

Galinda hesitated, clearly having been worn out by all the dancing he'd demanded before, and then giggled. "Only if we get to sing to you again."

He made a face. She had so enjoyed getting the crowd's attention to sing to him that she'd done it every time they'd entered a new room. While Fiyero may be far from shy, he found it a little embarrassing to constantly be made such a fuss about. "No deal. I'll just go get us some drinks or something."

She waved him off, flouncing away to talk to Pfannee. He shook his head. It was odd, this getting older bit. None of his other birthdays had ever made him feel different, but as he reflected to his last birthday festivities, it felt as if it had happened to someone else. He clearly remembered then reveling in the limelight, kissing every girl he could get away with and stealing every ounce of attention to be found. Had the past year really changed him so much?

Even as he thought it, he knew the answer. A certain influence had crept into his life, scorning his frivolity until she'd actually managed to mature him. How she inspired him so he didn't think he'd ever know. It was as if her intensity and passion were contagious, and he never failed to bask in her interesting (if often ill-tempered) presence.

He fetched the drinks, wishing for once she wasn't such a recluse. Turning his attention back to the crowd, he scanned for the short little bobble of curly blondness that was his girlfriend. Before he could locate her, however, his eyes fell on a far more welcome and unexpected sight.

Fiyero crossed to the stairs quickly, not quite fighting the wide grin that spread on his face. Claiming a seat beside her, he offered Elphaba the other drink, beaming. "You came."

It was as much question as statement, and she lifted her lip in that familiar half-smile of hers. "Of course."

"I thought you might not," he confessed, leaning closer to be heard over the party.

She smirked, "And miss all this? Why would I do such a ridiculous thing as that?"

He couldn't help but laugh. He hadn't realized how little fun he'd been having until she was there, suddenly brightening the entire space around them. "I'm glad," he said honestly, hoping it didn't sound cheesy.

"Happy Birthday," she said, and he heard it as if for the first time that night so filled with those identical words. The simple sincerity gave the words rebirth, and he took her hand in his.

"Dance with me."

She would normally have refused, or at least fought him for a while, but with no more than a discerning look, she acquiesced. He pulled her to him, and he smiled down at her. She was a good sport, and though she had clearly had more experience leading, she followed him fairly well. They danced through song after song, and she even laughed when he spun her into a graceful dip.

The song slowed, and he pulled her closer before she could back away. Smiling down at her, he teased her about something to distract her from the closeness so she could relax. Though they never lacked words between the two of them, he gradually let the conversation fade, pulling her closer still until she was against him, his face buried in her hair. She smelt so good, surrounding him in a cloud of contentment.

He wanted to stay there all night, holding her against him, rocking her gently to the soft melodies sliding over them, but then the tune changed back to a fast one. She was blushing when he pulled back, and he had to fight the urge to brush the hair out of her eyes.

The awkward pose of her body told him of her self-consciousness, and he intervened with a sudden spin. There was that beautiful smile again. He made a fool of himself for the next several sets, and when finally she looked ready to drop from exhaustion, he took her hand to lead her off the dance floor.

She plopped onto the couch, and he had to stifle a smile at the thought of Galinda performing a similar "unladylike" behavior. Elphaba was never one to care for what was expected of her, and he'd always admired her devil-may-care attitude. Throwing himself down beside her, he let his arm fall around her shoulders as his splayed limbs took up the rest of the room on the couch. To his surprise, she actually rested her head on his shoulder, sighing.

"What's on your mind?"

"Hmm?" she asked, lost in thought. "Oh, just thinking about birthdays. Why celebrate getting older?"

He rested his head against hers, feeling that sense of contentment which permeated her scent intoxicate him again. "I don't think it's celebrating getting older so much as celebrating everything that has happened to us in that year: everything we've learned, everything we've done, everyone that's been important to us."

He felt her shrug rather than saw it. "I suppose. But isn't that what New Year's is for?"

"It's just another landmark, only a more personal one I guess. I think any landmark is worth celebrating."

She snorted discreetly. "You would."

"Hey!" he mocked offense, but she merely gave him a light shove.

"You know it's true. You're always celebrating something. Life's just one big party, right?"

"Can I help it if I have a lot to be grateful for?" He let his fingers play with the silky strands of her hair that draped over her arm, and she sighed softly.

"I suppose not." Try as he might, he couldn't judge her meaning from her tone, and he questioned her. "No, nothing's wrong. I just don't like it when you're right," she teased, and he smiled knowing she could tell even if she couldn't see it.

They spent the next few moments in companionable silence, his fingers running lightly through her hair, his cheek still against her head on his shoulder. After long enough for him to get a little drowsy after all the dancing they'd done, she finally stirred lightly.

"I got you something," she lifted her head to meet his confused gaze, "you know, for your birthday." She blushed prettily as she reached into her pocket, retrieving a small packet with a slightly squashed bow.

His voice was tenderer than he'd intended when he asked in surprise, "You got me a present?"

She smirked, "Obviously."

He kissed the top of her head. "I love it."

"You don't even know what it is," she argued, but he merely shrugged.

"Doesn't matter. I love it."

She rolled eyes, fighting the laughter he knew she was hiding. "Just open it already." He complied, pulling the paper carefully away. She fidgeted as he opened the package, blushing more so now that her gift was seconds from revelation. "I didn't really know what to get you, seeing as you have pretty much everything," she babbled nervously, "so I just thought you might like it." As her nervous rambling ceased, her present was revealed, and he turned it over in his hands. The watch was beautiful, but what really moved him were the words she'd inscribed on it. Simple really; just, "Happy Birthday, Love, Elphaba," but those last two words undid his entire thought process.

"Now you won't be late anymore," she added awkwardly as he blinked at it in shock. He had to laugh at that. Elphaba, ever punctual sweetheart that she was, wouldn't understand being fashionably late.

He tilted her face up, kissing her softly on the cheek. "It's perfect, Elphaba. Just perfect." Her blush spread, and she dropped her eyes shyly. With her face so close and his sentimentality on overload, he had to work hard not to close the distance and kiss her. Then her eyes fluttered back up to his, and he realized dimly that his resistance was totally lost. Leaning in slightly, he touched their forehead, clinging to the dim hope that he wouldn't kiss her and destroy the only friendship that mattered in his life.

Her eyes were wide, peering up at him through her eyelashes so innocently that he almost couldn't breathe. "Fiyero…," she said, her voice breathy and soft. His thumb traced her lips lightly as he teased himself with the idea of them, fighting not to lose it when he felt how soft and perfect they were. When he felt her shift slightly, a millimeter at most, closer and tilt to lean up just the ghost of a hint nearer, he surrendered to the need to kiss her, leaning down to close the distance.

"Happy birthday to you!" the raucous singing made them jump as Fiyero noticed the crowd fast approaching. Elphaba scooted away quickly, and Fiyero sighed with disappointment. Galinda bounced into his lap, conducting the final merry strains before she burst into a fit of giggles.

"You should have a birthday every day."

"That would kind of defeat the purpose," Elphaba pointed out, but she studiously avoided his eyes.

"Still, it would be fun," Galinda countered, and as Fiyero reflected on the party, dancing and these last few precious moments he couldn't disagree. Perhaps if he had a birthday everyday, the next time he would finally get his birthday wish.


End file.
